Feel
by cmaddict
Summary: Right now, they just wanted to let go and feel. Post "Minimal Loss", Hotch/Emily pairing. My first CM fic in ages, so please R&R!


**A/N:** This is my first Criminal Minds fic in almost a year, so forgive me if I'm a little rusty on the characters. I've been wanting to write a Hotch/Emily oneshot for a while now, but inspiration didn't hit until after tonight's episode. I just love this pairing. This hasn't been beta'd, so all mistakes are my own. Please review!

**Disclaimer: **Obviously I don't own it. I just borrow it.

* * *

_She looks horrible_, Hotch thought grimly as he watched Emily and Reid talk quietly in a secluded corner of the plane.

And Emily Prentiss certainly did look horrible. A wicked-looking bruise covered about half of her face, and she walked favoring her left side. The EMT at the scene had told her she probably had a couple of fractured ribs, but in typical Emily fashion, she'd refused any pain killers other than generic Tylenol.

Hotch sighed and shifted in his seat, his dark eyes never leaving the solemn pair in the corner. He couldn't tell what had frightened him more – hearing Cyrus beat the crap out of her, or the sudden rush of feelings sweeping over him as he finally spotted her limping from the wreckage of the encampment. Hell, he was _Hotch_. He was the unit chief, her boss, her superior. He wasn't supposed to be having those feelings – that intense relief upon seeing her alive, that immediate guilt upon seeing her bruised face, that sudden urge to run up to her and gather her in his arms.

But, if he were truly honest with himself, it was about damn time he finally recognized those feelings that had just been laying dormant for so long.

He'd long been attracted to her. That much was for certain. Since the divorce, he'd been positioning himself close to her during interviews and profile briefings. He'd been sitting across from her in the plane, just so he could study her features without really being noticed. It would take a blind man not to notice how pretty she was, with her chocolate-colored locks, deep brown eyes, and wonderfully pale skin.

Not to mention her mind. He loved a woman with intellect, one whose wits could match his own. She understood the job, she understood that it was who he was because it was who she was. Haley had demanded so much from him, asking him to separate his role as a father from his role as a profiler. What he'd tried to tell her was that he couldn't. He couldn't just turn it off when he wanted to.

He wanted to feel again.

_Aaron Hotchner_, he thought. _You're an idiot._

And he most definitely was an idiot. For not trusting her to begin with, for suspecting her of trying to break his team apart. For sending her in there. For not stopping the beating when he had the chance.

"Hey."

A soft voice broke into his self-loathing thoughts, and he looked up to see Dave Rossi standing over him, a weary expression on his weathered face.

"Mind if I sit down?" Rossi asked, gesturing to the empty chair.

Hotch considered it for a minute, knowing that if the older man sat down, it would block his watchful view of Emily.

"She's not going anywhere, Hotch."

Even though he'd said it in a whisper, Hotch jerked his head up to stare at Rossi in surprise. Rossi just shrugged and sat down anyway. "How'd you know?" Hotch asked quietly, averting his eyes to stare out the window of the plane.

"It wasn't hard to figure out." Rossi crossed his legs and rested his elbows on the armrests. "I watched your face while we were listening to her getting pummeled. You looked a little more concerned than a supervisor would normally be for his subordinate."

Hotch chuckled lightly. Leave it to a profiler to look past his famously stoic expressions. Then his chuckle faded as the sounds of her grunts filled his good ear one more time. "We could've lost her, Dave. Her and Reid."

"But we didn't." Rossi leaned forward a little, studying the other man closely. Those dark eyes, so intelligent and often so cold, never left the window. Just stared out into the expanse of the sky.

"But we could've." Finally Hotch turned back to Rossi, looking the older man square in the eyes. "I lost two agents I cared about already. And today, I almost lost two more."

"What happened out there was not your fault. You couldn't've known the state attorney general would lie through his teeth about the outstanding warrants. You couldn't've known the press would leak that there was an FBI agent undercover in the camp. You took what came to you, and you got your agents out alive, along with most of the civilians."

"At what price?" Hotch shot back. "We do this every single day. We face the worst monsters the world has ever known, and sometimes we come out unscathed. But what about today? What about Prentiss and Reid? It is my job to keep my people safe."

"You're right. It is your job to keep your people safe. But it's also your job to keep civilian casualties to a minimum. And we did that, because we waited until it was the right time."

Hotch considered his words for a few moments. As usual, he was right. What had happened to Emily and Reid would fade with time. The bruises would fade, the fractures would heal, and it would all become a distant memory.

"You asked about price." Hotch looked up to see Rossi sit back in his chair and fold his hands across his chest. "You finally figured out some stuff."

"Yeah," he replied with a self-deprecating chuckle. "I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not. You're a man." Rossi grunted as he stood up and stretched his limbs. He stepped out into the aisle and leaned down slightly. "But you will be an idiot if you don't tell her how you feel," he whispered, clapping Hotch gently on the shoulder. "And the sooner, the better."

* * *

Emily Prentiss groaned as she lifted her ready bag with her good hand as the others moved to the front of the plane. Those ribs really ached, and the long plane ride back to Quantico hadn't helped much. Morgan quickly reached out to take her bag from her, but she shook her head and smiled softly at him. "I got it."

"Sure thing, Em," the hunky agent replied, returning her smile. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Rest. Got it." Rest was one thing she could do. And most certainly would do. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been so exhausted after a case. They were all emotionally and physically taxing, but this one took the cake.

That expression from Jessica's mother would haunt Emily for a long, long time. Long after the bruises and fractures healed.

She quickly got off the plane and limped toward the waiting cars. Morgan, JJ, Reid, and Rossi were ahead of her, walking toward the SUV that would take them back to the BAU for their personal cars. She didn't mind waiting for another ride, although they would most certainly wait for her. It gave her time to think.

"Need a ride?"

The familiar, baritone voice of her supervisor startled her, and she turned to see Hotch standing behind her. As tired as she was, she quirked an eyebrow at him curiously.

He shrugged. "They're on their way back to headquarters. I figured you'd want to skip the side trip. Besides, you're not really in any condition to be driving."

Part of her wanted to vehemently protest that last statement, but she was just too damn tired. And truthfully, she was grateful for the company. So she smiled at him and nodded. "Thanks, that's really nice of you."

Hotch smiled – actually smiled – back at her and reached for her bag, his eyes never leaving hers. A fact which made her very, very nervous. "Any time," he said simply, his fingers lightly brushing hers as he took her bag in his strong hand.

He led her to a waiting SUV and gently helped her in before tossing their bags in the backseat. Before she could change her mind, they were on the highway, heading toward her apartment just outside D.C.

Emily leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes against the throbbing pain in her head and ribs. She'd meant what she'd said – she could take it. But she didn't know he'd hit so damn hard. Especially with those steel-toed boots.

What she wasn't prepared for was the hyper-awareness that came with her supervisor's close proximity to her. It had been so long since they were alone – truly alone – that she didn't completely know how to handle it.

So she just kept her eyes closed, against the pain and the awkward silence, and drifted off to sleep. And surprisingly, Hotch just let her sleep.

When she finally opened her eyes, they were outside her apartment building, and Hotch's powerful hand was gently shaking her awake. "Emily, we're here."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered his use of her first name, but she was too foggy-headed to try to figure out why. Emily shook her head softly to try to shake the cobwebs out.

Hotch opened her door for her and helped her out of the car. He looked at her ruefully as he grabbed her bag from the backseat. "I'm sorry I couldn't let you sleep a little longer."

"I got some sleep on the plane, so I think I'm okay for now," she replied with a smile. "Thanks for the ride."

"I meant what I said earlier. Any time." Hotch smiled at her again as they made their way up to her apartment.

Emily fished her keys out of her pocket and opened the door. It swung open silently, revealing the spacious, silent living room and kitchen. She quickly glanced at Hotch again, who showed absolutely no sign of making this a quick visit. Somehow she sensed he just wanted to make sure she was all right. That was his way of doing things. He always wanted to make sure his team was all right.

"You want to come in?" she asked, knowing full well he wouldn't come in unless he was invited.

Hotch nodded once, and she led him into the darkened apartment, tossing her keys on the counter and flipping on a couple of lamps as she made her way to the couch.

"Could you put the bag by the counter?" she asked him, sinking down onto the couch.

He dropped it with a soft _thunk_ and joined her in the living room. His dark eyes stared out the window at the illuminated white dome of the Capitol building. "Hell of a view," he said softly as he sat down on the edge of the couch next to her.

"Yeah, it is. Part of the reason I got this place." Emily looked at him and he looked at her. Their dark eyes connected in the soft glow of the lamplight, and suddenly she felt very awkward. She'd ruthlessly stamped down any attraction to him in the past, but having him here, in her place, with her, alone, wasn't helping matters.

Hotch just stared back at her, his face expressionless as always. Unreadable. The fact that he was so unreadable frightened her. Men she couldn't read scared her.

Finally she decided to break the incredibly stiff silence that enveloped them. "If you're going to apologize for what happened, there's no need."

He just raised an eyebrow at her and looked away, the only sign that she was on the right track.

"You don't need to feel guilty, you know. It was my choice. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"You'd take the beating? Knowing that there was a group of FBI agents and deputies outside ready to run to your rescue, you'd do it again?"

"Absolutely." Emily absently ran a hand through her dark hair and sighed. "I knew you'd come when it was time."

"And if you hadn't made it?" His eyes were back on her again. Staring at her.

She allowed herself to make eye contact with him, and she even leaned forward a little, resting her elbows on her knees. "It was worth it, Hotch. For those women and children to make it out alive, for Reid to make it out unscathed… it was worth it. And that knowledge is what keeps the demons away."

The expression in his eyes shifted to something that looked an awful lot like… admiration. Respect. But was there something deeper?

Hotch sighed and shook his head slightly. "I don't know…"

Her eyebrow almost hit her hairline. "You don't know what?"

Once again, his eyes connected with hers, and he hesitated. And her heart froze for a second. "I don't know what I would've done if something had happened to you."

Emily's jaw dropped in surprise. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

"I've come to rely on you, Emily," he continued, and this time she definitely didn't miss the use of her first name. "For a lot of things. To help me out with my hearing, to keep the team in line, to relieve the tension in the room. You're steady, reliable. You understand the team. And most of all, you understand me."

Slowly he stood up and took just one step toward her. The light from the Capitol glinted off his dark eyes. She stared up at him, completely and totally caught off guard. Maybe she'd been hit on the head harder than she thought.

He took another step toward her, reaching out with one of his hands toward hers, expecting and hoping for her to reciprocate. "I don't want another day like today to happen without you knowing how I feel about you."

Her brain screamed, _It's _Hotch_ for crying out loud! You can't do this! It's against policy!_

But her heart screamed, _Policy be damned!_

She just wanted to feel.

Hesitatingly she reached out her own hand and touched her fingers to his. Slowly his fingers wrapped around hers, and he gently pulled her to her feet and pulled her closer to his chest. One strong hand went around her waist, taking great care not to hurt her ribs, and the other tenderly brushed the dark bruise on the side of her face. Emily swallowed hard and allowed her arms to twine around his slender waist. This would certainly have some ramifications, come tomorrow.

But for once in her life, she just plain didn't care.

Emily Prentiss had had enough lonely nights.

Slowly his lips descended on hers, caressing them ever so softly. She moaned a little as his arms pulled her closer to his body, and her hands fisted in the material of his shirt. Then he pressed just a little harder, his hand going to the back of her head to entangle his fingers in her dark locks. Hotch nudged her lips open with his, and her heart just about stopped when his tongue slipped in to tangle with hers, trying to convey the regret and the sorrow he kept hidden from everyone else.

So this was what it was to feel again.

Finally he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, both of them breathing hard. "I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that."

Emily chuckled. "I can't tell you how long I've wanted you to do that."

"You're kidding."

She shook her head and smiled, gently brushing her lips in a tender kiss one more time. "Nope."

"So, what happens now?"

Emily cocked her head, pretending to consider what would happen next, when in reality she'd thought about it more often than she cared to admit to anyone. "How about you help me upstairs, and we'll figure it out later."

He nodded and grasped her hand gently, entwining his fingers with hers. They would have plenty of time to figure it out later.

Right now, all they wanted was just to let go and feel.

* * *

**A/N2:** So, what did you think? I kind of felt it was a little OOC. They're seriously two of the hardest characters to write.


End file.
